


Diamonds and Hearts

by MiraMira



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Romance, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 01:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7199930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraMira/pseuds/MiraMira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Question is acting weird.  Well, weirder than usual.  Helena will need every resource at her disposal to get to the bottom of this mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diamonds and Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/gifts).



> I was lured in by several of your prompt inspirations, Merfilly, but this was the one that stuck. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Contains background Dinah/Ollie.

“Got your note,” Dinah coos as she climbs the last step of the fire escape on to the roof. “Although you cut the aim a little close for comfort this time. Whatever new toy you're testing out, I think it needs more—oh.” Her excitement fades to annoyance as she realizes the silhouette standing before her definitely does _not_ belong to Ollie. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting your attention,” says Huntress, unloading a green quarrel before slinging her crossbow over her shoulder.

Dinah folds her arms. “You've bought yourself ten seconds. Use them wisely.”

Huntress nods, but still hesitates before blurting out the purpose of her errand: “Q's acting weird.” Fortunately, she anticipates the inevitable objection before Dinah sprains an eyebrow. “I mean, weird for him. Weirder even than the time he went after Cadmus.”

As alarming as she finds this pronouncement, all Dinah can come up with in response is a shrug. “If you don't know what's going on in that head of his, I'm not sure what hope anyone else has.” A thought occurs to her. “Except maybe Batman. Why don't you—”

“Tried that,” Huntress sighs. “He asked a few questions, gave me some cryptic nonsense about the timing making sense, and then excused himself to go investigate a reported Joker sighting.” She looks up at Dinah, the disconcerting vulnerability in her expression preempting any attempt to point out that she's used up her ten seconds. “Besides, you and Green Arrow are the only ones I know in our line of work who really have this relationship thing figured out. What do you do when you start to feel like you're...drifting?”

Dinah has to sit on the edge of the roof and think this over for a bit. “I'll admit, we're not great at talking things out,” she says at last. “More like sparring. But it works for us, you know? You just have to find a way to reconnect with whatever brought you together in the first place.”

It's hard to tell through the mask, but Dinah thinks she sees something in Huntress's eyes spark at this. At any rate, her posture goes from tense to relaxed. “That—that helps a lot. Thanks.”

“Any time,” says Dinah without thinking. “I mean...well, you know what I mean. Just don't impersonate my boyfriend again, okay?”

Huntress fires off a smirking salute and makes her way to the fire escape.

Once the other woman is out of sight, Dinah stands and switches on her League communicator. “You were right,” she says without preamble the instant she's patched through. “She just stopped by. Good luck taking it from here.” She thinks for a second before adding, “Don't say I never do anything nice for you.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” comes the soft-voiced reply on the other end. “Sending the data you requested now. Also, Arrow's ten blocks away, foiling a robbery on Simone Avenue. If you hurry, you should be able to catch him.”

Stifling a curse at the realization she's going to come out of this still owing a favor, Dinah breaks contact and sets off in the direction of uptown.

-

All right, Helena thinks as she hits the ground. She can do this. As Black Canary's pep talk has served to remind her, everything Vic does, he does deliberately. Which means whatever's going on, he not only expects her to notice his odd behavior, he trusts her to put the clues together.

She really, _really_ hopes he isn't overestimating her abilities.

Half an hour later, after letting herself into Vic's office and thwarting his security measures (only five; he must be expecting her), she finds herself standing before the big board of theories. One of them, at least. She hopes she's chosen right; sneaking on to the Watchtower is going to be a pain and a half, and she's going to feel incredibly stupid if the answer has been lying somewhere in their apartment the whole time.

“Okay, lover,” she murmurs, leaning in to get a closer look. “Let's see which of these threads has your trenchcoat in a twist.”

Threads. Hmm. Come to think of it, that article on the Tanzanian mining industry she doesn't remember seeing before has a bright, unfrayed red string attached. But what is it doing connected to a story about artificial organs? Or an advice column on gardening tips and trends?

“Diamonds,” she says out loud, eyes widening with recognition. “Diamonds, hearts, and spades. The Royal Flush Gang. But where--?”

The answer comes in the form of the final suit: a society piece on one of Gotham's most exclusive nightclubs. And scribbled at the bottom, in handwriting so illegible it practically qualifies as its own cypher, _midnight_.

Helena checks the clock. 11:56. She'd better step on it.

-

She arrives to find the club cleared of bystanders, but the police not yet arrived – no doubt dealing with the same Joker situation that has Batman preoccupied. Which is perfectly fine with Helena, who's in no mood for a round of trying to convince them she's one of the good guys.

Inside, she discovers Vic has reduced the fight to a one-on-one confrontation. Thankfully, this iteration of the gang doesn't appear to include any metahumans, but whoever they've recruited for their King looks tough. And Vic's starting to get winded; as Helena watches, he stoops to catch his breath, only to get his legs knocked out from under him with a vicious kick.

Good thing she's already got a tranquilizer locked and loaded. One shot, and the big lug collapses, his crown hitting the ground with a clatter.

Vic picks himself partially up off the floor and restores his hat to its rightful place. “Perfect timing.”

“No thanks to you,” she snaps. Now that the adrenaline from both the fight and solving the mystery is starting to wear off, she's feeling less exhilarated than irritated. “If you needed backup, why didn't you just ask?”

“That is the question, isn't it?”

It takes her a second to register that he is down on one knee, holding something that does not appear to be a piece of evidence. 

“Oh, Q,” she says, when she finds her voice again. “You already know the answer to that one.” As she helps him to his feet and holds out her finger for him to slide the ring on to it, she whispers, “But pull something like this at the wedding, and I will nail you to the altar with everything in my arsenal.”

Somehow, Vic manages a look of wide-eyed innocence without any eyes. “Where would the fun in that be?”

She finds his lips through his mask and kisses him, giving him a tiny nip before she lets go. “We'll discuss it. For now, I think we should get out of here and celebrate, don't you?”

“I'm sure there's a suitable roof somewhere nearby.”

Helena's grin is big enough for the both of them. “Then I think the real question is, what are we waiting for?”


End file.
